


go on, take everything (I want you to)

by cherryvanilla



Series: Might Last a Day [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Anniversary, Established Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Kyle should’ve seen it coming. In retrospect, he really didn’t.</p>
<p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/420889">might last a day (minus forever)</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	go on, take everything (I want you to)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larnbean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larnbean/gifts).



> I asked for a prompt idea for my South Park Big Bang and Lauren gave me one. And now I'm giving this to her on her birthday. Happy Birthday, bb! Hope you like it.

Things were good between them. Better than good. So good that Kyle was often surprised. That didn’t mean there haven’t been snags, the main of which being Kyle’s living location. Cartman gave him crap for bunking on Craig’s couch for months, especially when Kyle was spending so much time at Cartman’s anyway. 

He’d been particularly pissed off when Kyle went back to Craig’s and avoided Cartman for three days after having spent an entire week at Cartman’s place. 

And, alright, Kyle had maybe been freaking out a little bit. Because it felt all too much like living with Stan. Kyle would go to Cartman’s place after work and they’d eat dinner _together_ and then make out on Cartman’s couch and have sex before getting ready for bed _together_. An entire week of that had -- yeah -- it’d freaked him out. 

It cumulated with Cartman banging on Craig’s door at 2 a.m. on a Friday, in pure dramatic Cartman fashion, yelling about how Kyle was “hiding like a little bitch.” 

Craig stood off to the side, unimpressed, while Kyle and Cartman faced off in his living room and neighbors yelled, “Quiet down or we’ll call the police!” 

“We _are_ the police,” Cartman yelled back. 

“Well, we won’t be soon,” Craig pointed out. 

“God damn it, Craig, fuck off!” Cartman yelled, voice cracking. 

“I don’t think I will, as this is my apartment,” Craig responded, voice as deadpan as ever. 

“Fine,” Cartman replied, hands on his hips, eyes flashing as he looked at Kyle. “Look bitch, you practically live with me and guess what? That’s not the end of the world.”

“You don’t understand,” Kyle gritted out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Then explain it to me!” 

Kyle sighed, no real fight left in him, while Cartman’s anger practically vibrated in the room. “I told you before, I need to -- feel like I have something that’s just mine. A space that’s just mine.” 

“Even if that space is Craig’s couch,” Cartman said flatly. 

“Hey!” Craig exclaimed. 

“Shut up, Craig!” they both said in unison. 

“You two deserve each other,” Craig muttered, yawning and heading back to his room. 

Kyle looked at Cartman, saw something soften in his eyes and -- it made his chest flip with emotion, made him take a step closer to him because he knew Cartman would allow it, no matter if he was still mad. 

He reached out, cupped Cartman’s cheek in his hand. “Just -- let me do what I need to do, okay? It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.” 

He watched Cartman bite his lip, watched the insecurity that he tried so hard to mask most of the time seep through. Cartman grunted and pulled Kyle in for a tight, bone crushing hug. “Fine, but don’t fucking avoid me for days afterward, jesus christ.” 

“Deal,” Kyle said, smiling into his neck. 

And then they fucked on Craig’s couch, while Craig blasted music to drown out the sound. 

Cartman put up with it pretty well after that, and he didn’t make a fuss (much) when Kyle finally moved into his own place after a few months of having a steady paycheck once the P.I. firm was up and running. 

Kyle was happy to have his own space again, a place he could _actually_ , finally call his own. He had fun decorating it, and even more fun christening every single room of his new place with Cartman. The ultimate plus had been Cartman liking it more than his own place, which was better than Cartman bitching about it. As a result they stayed there a lot and Kyle didn’t really mind when Cartman started staying over more and more often. In fact, he kind of loved it. 

That went on for a while and it was fine, but the practicality of it was lacking and, well, Kyle was all about practicality. There really was no reason for them to go back to one person’s place after having come from a day of working _together_ while another apartment, another rent payment, went unused half of the month. 

So, yeah, it was something that went through his mind from time to time, but he had no real plans to bring it up. 

In retrospect, Kyle should’ve seen it coming. In retrospect, he really didn’t.  
___________________________________

Kyle should never be surprised at the things Cartman did. Or when he did them. Cartman dropped bombs at the most inopportune times. 

(He first told Kyle he loved him on a rollercoaster. A fucking _rollercoaster_ , right as they were at the top and about to go down. Kyle screamed obscenities at him through the entire drop. 

When they’d evened out again, the car they were going slow around a turn, Cartman just smirked at Kyle and pulled him in by two fingers under his chin, kissing him far too wet and filthy for a family fun park. 

“That’s all you have to say?” Cartman whispered against his lips, sounding out of breath. Kyle wasn’t sure if it had been from the ride or the intensity of the kiss he’d just laid on Kyle. 

“Jesus fuck, you fuckin’ bastard, I love you too,” Kyle replied, in between biting kisses. 

And then he was screaming again as they went down the second drop). 

So this was what Cartman did. It was his M.O. Like the time he invited Kyle out to dinner with his mom to the Olive Garden and then told Mrs. Cartman (right in the middle of the appetizer) that they were fucking. 

Kyle choked on a breadstick. 

Cartman tried to perform CPR. 

Mrs. Cartman said she wasn’t surprised as, “My little angel’s been fixated on you since you were kids.” 

Kyle had wished he’d died for real. 

Yet, despite all of this, Kyle never really saw it coming. 

It was their anniversary. One year. To anyone else it wouldn’t seem like much, but for them it was a lifetime. Plus it was actually over one year, since they count from when they officially decided to be together. 

“I can’t believe our anniversary is based on declarations in the rain,” Cartman said as they were getting ready to go out to dinner with Kyle’s parents. It was weird -- his parents wanting to take them _out_ for his anniversary. But they were “trying to be more accepting of his relationship” as his mom put it. 

With Stan, it had always been more about the gay thing. 

With Cartman, it was only the Cartman thing. 

“I wouldn’t have had to declare anything in the rain if you hadn’t been being overdramatic.” 

“I wouldn’t have been over-dramatic if you hadn’t been ditching me for the hippie,” Cartman pointed out. 

“Whatever you say, fat-ass.” 

“You’re so romantic, Kyle, truly.” 

Kyle tackled him while he’s trying to do up his tie. Partly to shut Cartman up but mostly because he was putting on a _tie_ to go to dinner with _Kyle’s_ parents and Kyle honestly couldn’t believe how much he loved this guy. 

They are, naturally, late for dinner. 

___________________________________

Dinner is -- well, it’s dinner with Kyle’s parents. 

“Hello Mrs. Broflovski, you are looking as enchanting as ever this evening,” Cartman said, bending to lean down to kiss his mom’s hand. 

Kyle rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Smooth, dude,” Kyle muttered. 

“Why, Kyle, your life partner certainly is behaving well these days.” 

Kyle groaned as they took their seats, ignoring Cartman trying to hold his chair out, good _god_ , does he go obnoxiously overboard. 

“Please don’t say ‘life partner’ mom. Or talk about him like he’s a dog.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Broflovski, if there’s one bitch in this--”

Kyle kicked him in the shin, hard. 

Cartman cleared his throat. “I mean. Your son is an angel and I’m truly blessed to be celebrating this anniversary with you all tonight.” 

“Oh my god,” Kyle groaned, taking a huge sip of water. 

“Well, you boys certainly seem -- happy,” his dad offered up, as sincerely as possible. 

“It’s nice to see our baby in a stable relationship. Unlike your brother, Kyle. I don’t know what is going on with that boy.”

“Not a baby,” Kyle muttered under his breath. He jumps a little when he feels a hand on his thigh and is about to kick Cartman again. But he just squeezed Kyle’s leg once, an “I’m here” type gesture and Kyle often forgot that Cartman can be that way. That he knew when to ease up, when Kyle really needed him. Kyle reached for him, squeezed his hand, and smiled down at his plate. 

“Ike’s young, mom. He’ll figure it out,” Kyle replied, threading his fingers with Cartman’s under the table and feeling his chest swell. 

“He met this girl last week and wants to move in with her,” his dad said. “He thinks he’s in love all the time.” 

Kyle tensed a little, felt Cartman’s fingers flex beneath his own. 

“Well, uh. Moving in is a big step,” he replied, feeling a little numb. “Ike shouldn’t rush into that.”

Cartman pulled his hand away and Kyle felt cold immediately. 

He tried not to dwell on it, but Cartman was uncharacteristically quiet next to him for the next few minutes, only speaking when spoken to.

When the wine arrived, his mom made a toast. 

“To Kyle and Cartman, and their same sex partnership.” 

Kyle choked on his wine. 

Cartman doesn’t attempt CPR. 

Kyle really has no idea why he still went to family functions, he really didn’t. 

______________________________________

“My place or yours?” Kyle said when they’re back in Cartman’s car. 

Cartman shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.” 

“Alright,” Kyle said, frowning. “Yours, then.” 

Cartman drove them back without trash talking Kyle’s parents or the food or the service. 

It was a little unnerving. 

When they got inside the apartment, he turned to Kyle immediately and slammed him against the door, following the movement with his mouth. 

Kyle groaned and reached up, threaded his hands in the short strands of Cartman’s hair, his mouth opening gratefully beneath him. 

This. This was what he needed. 

Cartman’s fire and passion and _want_. Not some lobotomized version of himself that emerged halfway through dinner. 

Kyle moaned loudly when Cartman bit down on his lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth. 

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled, and slid his hands down Cartman’s back, getting a handful of his ass before lining their hips up. “Fuck, Eric.” 

Cartman grunted, shoved his hardening cock against Kyle’s. “Want me to fuck you, baby?” he gasped out against Kyle’s lips, while he dragged his dick against Kyle’s over and over. The words were dark and taunting and they made Kyle shiver all over. 

“Yeah,” Kyle breathed, moving his head to press feverish kisses along Cartman’s jaw and down his neck. “God, I want your dick inside me.” 

It had only been two days since they last did anal, but fuck, if Kyle wasn’t suddenly desperate for it. 

“Gonna give it to you so hard,” Cartman promised, before licking a slow line up Kyle’s neck and sucking on the skin. Kyle moaned into the touch, his toes curling with want. 

Cartman got his hands under Kyle’s ass and Kyle knew what he was about to do before it happened. 

He couldn’t protest though, just let Cartman carry him to the -- 

“Wait, the bed’s --”

“I know where the fucking bed is, Jew,” he said without heat as he deposited Kyle on the couch. “I want you here. Now.”

His eyes flashed as he looked down at Kyle. His hair was mussed up, his face was red, and his tie was askew. 

Kyle needed him desperately. 

He reached up, reeled Cartman into a kiss by his tie, whispering, “Fuck, yes,” just before their mouths met. 

Cartman licked between his lips, slow and hot and utterly filthy, his tongue curling around Kyle’s own. 

Cartman climbed between his legs and Kyle felt him digging around in the couch cushions. 

“Ha!” he said triumphantly, pressing a biting kiss to the center of Kyle’s mouth before holding up his discovery. “Knew it was a good place to store lube.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes but he wasn’t really annoyed. He was stupidly endeared, honestly. It was a problem. 

They stripped each other of just enough clothing to make this shit work. Kyle could tell Cartman wanted it rough and fast tonight, and he felt exactly the same way, some sort of tension inside him that he couldn’t release since dinner. 

When Cartman was pressing him into the cushions, body folded in half while he guided his cock into Kyle with one hand and held his leg up with the other, Kyle finally felt that tension uncoil. 

Cartman’s dick dragged along the slick walls of his ass, hot and huge and perfect. The first slide in was always Kyle’s favorite, whether he was riding Eric or getting pressed into the mattress. It made him feel whole, almost. It was pathetic and he was probably far too gone for this guy, but it was unavoidable at this point, like an ever moving force. 

Cartman’s eyes locked on him and it never seized to make Kyle feel even more naked than any state of physical undress; the way Cartman’s gaze pierced into him, held him there, exposed him. 

Tonight was no different, but it was somehow even more intense. Cartman stared at him like he was trying to find something. Once he was in to the hilt he removed his hand and locked it within Kyle’s own. 

Kyle squeezed, and swallowed hard. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Cartman sighed and Kyle watched a slight tremor roll through his body. He sunk his teeth into his own lip and held Cartman’s gaze.

“So do you.” 

“Always so fucking good, Jew,” Cartman muttered, eyes drifting shut as he fucked in and out slowly, building the rhythm. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle said, and hooked his heel in the small of Cartman’s back to urge him closer. “C’mon, baby.” 

Cartman groaned loudly and curved his body downward, folding himself down on top of Kyle. 

Kyle accepted the weight gratefully, held him close with one hand around the center of his back, the other still tangled in Cartman’s own. 

He started slamming into Kyle then, rough and brutal, just the way Kyle ached for it. 

Kyle met him with each thrust, hips rising in time. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Cartman slurred against his neck, teeth sharp on his skin. “Such a perfect slut. Love to take my cock, don’t you. God, _Kyle_.” 

“Nnggh,” Kyle gasped, turning his head to the other side so he could breathe a little more. Cartman kept assaulting his neck, fucking his open. 

Kyle didn’t even have a hand on his own cock, yet he felt himself close to the edge, just from the way Eric’s stomach brushed against his dick with every thrust. 

“Say you love it,” Cartman breathed against his ear, tonguing at the lobe, making him shiver. 

“I love it,” Kyle said, squeezing his hand and back at the same time. “God, I fucking live for this.” 

He felt Cartman go a little tense and wondered if he came. But then he began fucking Kyle in earnest, pullled his leg up higher, throwing it over his shoulder. ”Shit. God, just. Move in with me. Our place, we’ll get a place, fuck, Kyle.” 

Kyle’s eyes flew open and it was his turn to tense. Of course that’s when Cartman came, yelling out his orgasm against Kyle’s ear and shuddering hard, thrusts becoming erratic before he slumped down on top of him. 

“You -- are you fucking. Jesus _christ_ , Eric.” 

And then, naturally, Kyle came himself, dick spurting between them, coating Cartman’s stomach with come. 

Cartman was panting into his shoulder, loud and obnoxious. 

“Jesus christ,” Kyle muttered again, and felt dazed. “Your timing consistently leaves something to be desired, you know this, right?” 

Cartman pulled back to look at him. His face was -- not smug like Kyle would’ve expected, creased with insecurity. 

He thumbed Kyle’s lower lip, letting it drag against the pad of his finger. “What do you say?” 

“I’ve got a lease,” Kyle replied helplessly. He knew it wasn’t much of an answer, but his head was still spinning. 

“It’s up in six months,” Cartman said, dismissively. “You know this is stupid, Kyle.” 

Kyle knew that, now. He had his own place for a little while, which was nice, but he also knew all they did was switch from constantly being at Eric’s to constantly being at Kyle’s. 

Except-- 

“What do you mean-- our place?” 

Kyle had assumed they would just -- move into Eric’s or something. His was rent controlled, after all.

Cartman looked even more nervous, if possible. A nervous Cartman -- well, unnerved Kyle. It really did. 

He watched Eric drag a hand through his hair. God, his tie was still on and there was come on the edges of his open shirt. “I was thinking -- we could, you know. Get a house or something.” 

Kyle blinked at him, and his stomach flipped. 

“A -- really?” He wasn’t proud at the way his voice cracked, like he was a kid again. 

Cartman shrugged. It was far too casual for his demeanor. “Yeah, you know. Start fresh, I dunno.” 

“I--” he thought about that. A house, he said. Not an apartment. Even in Denver, he and Stan had an apartment. Cartman was talking about a house, like his parents had. With a lawn and taxes and a backyard. 

Maybe enough room for a dog. 

“Um,” he said. “We could -- start looking? I’ve still got 6 months, like you said.” 

Cartman visibly relaxed and then schooled his expression to neutrality, like he didn’t care. Like Kyle was saying he’d take out the trash tomorrow. 

He really loved this man-child. 

“Cool, Jew. Sounds good to me.” 

Kyle bit back a grin and grunted, lifting himself up on his elbows. He leaned forward, kissed Cartman’s jaw, the corner of his mouth. 

“Pretty big step,” Kyle teased, mimicking his earlier words. “Not one to rush into.” 

Cartman snorted. “Please, bitch, like I’m not gonna try and put a ring on all this one day.” 

Kyle’s breath caught again and he went stock still. He -- it’s not like Cartman was even drunk. He’d had two glasses of wine at dinner. But he was throwing things out there, casually, like -- like he wasn’t saying the most important shit ever. 

Cartman, who didn’t believe in marriage, be it between a man and a woman or same sex, just essentially said that’s where they were heading. 

That this was forever. 

And maybe Kyle, deep down, has thought about that from time to time, but fuck if he had been going to voice it first. 

He pulled back, searched Eric’s face for any sign of kidding, searched it to see if he was able to break into an impromptu rendition of Single Ladies. He couldn’t find anything. 

“Like I’m not gonna maybe let you,” Kyle said, watching Cartman’s face shift into a slow, pleased smile. 

Cartman pulls him in for a slow, deep, bone-melting kiss that leaves them both panting. 

“Do I get my present now?” Kyle breathed out against Cartman’s throat, pressing feverish kisses into hot, damp skin. 

“I just said I’m getting you a ring one day and I was well behaved for your parents. That’s your present.” 

Kyle snorted and rolled his eyes, even as warmth spread through his belly. 

Happy anniversary to him, apparently. 

“C’mon,” Cartman said, before climbing up and pulling Kyle with him. “I want you to ride me on our bed.” 

_Our_ , Kyle thought, his pulse racing a little. 

Maybe one day Eric Cartman would stop surprising him. Today wasn’t one of those days. 

Kyle wouldn’t really have it any other way. 

[end]

**Author's Note:**

> This is also inspired by an art comission I got done at comic con, in which the artist said, voice thoughtful, "They hate each other..." and I said "naaahh, I don't think they hate each other" and she continued, in the same line of thought, "...or they're gonna get married one day." 
> 
> Yeeeep.


End file.
